The Linking of Life and Lore
by safeDbeginswithme
Summary: Disney exists in one cohesive universe. This story explains the connection between the infamous goblin king, Jareth, and the mysterious Elsa. It also explains a little as to why Elsa has powers while Anna doesn't as well as what Jareth's powers are and how they came to be.
1. Chapter 1

The last of the mending was complete. The young woman stared that the pile, loath to tear her eyes away. If she looked away, she would see her child's things: the crib her husband had labored over, the blanket she had carefully stitched. All in preparation for their first and long awaited child. The one that had come too soon.

Tears misted over her eyes and abruptly she stood up and walked out of the house. The place seemed set on smothering her. Outside the air was sharp and biting, but it cleared her head. She needed to prepare the house for winter. Her sorrows would be there still, but the food would not store itself.

Jack Frost, newly arrived to the small village, took note of the young woman. Usually, people were not of much interest to him, but he had recently found himself in need of some very particular assistance. He made note of the small house and continued on. He would come back once he had established himself in town. No need to rush.

The young woman sat up abruptly. Her husband was already out of bed. Something was wrong. What, she didn't know, but something was wrong.

"The fire," her husband breathed. He was right, it was too dark. She could still feel the heat from it, so it must have been burning strong, as it should have been. There was a small noise from the corner, her husband stepped in front of her and quietly moved to where the noise had been.

It sounded again, a quiet movement. Almost like the rustling of blankets. Her husband let out a breath and grabbed her hand.

"Mary, look." Her husband had tears and wonder in his voice. Mary Peered around her husband. Time stopped for a moment. She watched her husband move forward, dropping her hand and reaching out in the darkness.

When he stepped back toward her again, he had a small bundle in his arms. Mary reached out and caressed the small, cold face among the blankets. They stood transfixed for a moment. The couple found each others eyes in the darkness.

"She's a….she has to be…" Mary whispered.  
"A miracle," Samuel answered gently, but firmly. A ghost of a smile played across her face.  
"A miracle, of course. The angels must have answered our prayers."  
"Our beautiful little miracle." In truth, the child wasn't beautiful. She was a waxy pale, her eyes were set deep, and her hair hair was an awful gray color, but to the grieving couple, nothing had ever been more beautiful.

Carefully, the newly complete family rebuilt the fire and headed back to bed.  
"Samuel, look at her blanket." Mary whispered across the sleeping infant. Mary was running a finger along the sleeping child's swaddling. It was a very fine blanket: silvery blue, but Mary was tracing the blanket around her child's face. All around her face there were little patterns sweeping away from her face. "They're ferns. They look…like they are made of ice." In fact, they were even cold to the touch. Samuel gave them an odd look. "They are beautiful. Is that your name, little one? Fern."

Samuel smiled at his wife and the little girl, "We should be sleeping. We will be wanting the rest, I think." Placing a gentle kiss on the foreheads of both of his girls, he laid back down and settled into bed.

* * *

Hello!

This story began as a discussion between roommate, which turned into a challenge and (being very competitive) I agreed. Elsa's powers are left ambiguous in origin and I've found at least one critique/review that suggests even her family doesn't know what she has these powers. So I began to do some research. At first I thought she might be half-fay, but this seems a little far-fetched. Her parent's should definitely know where her powers came from. So I started looking into changelings, which has mythology all across the European (and most other cultures as well) block, which is where Arendelle is generally agreed to be located. Friends, you would not believe the amount of folklore, court cases, and general mythology I read about Changelings. Why generally Changelings were considered troublesome, occasionally a family would raise on with love, despite the Fay origins of the child. In this case one of two things happened: The Changeling returned home and the stolen child did the same, or the Changeling grew up with a human family. In the case of the second option, the Changeling would usually remember who they were and return to their people at a certain age (Fay children are more like tiny adults). Every now and again, however, Changelings would forget their origins and live a normal human life. Furthermore, it was considered desirable for Fay children to grow up in a human home (many reasons are supposed for this).

Additionally, Jack Frost is a Fay character that is presented in a variety of ways. His two preferred descriptions include a troublesome or mischievous boy with no real ill intent and an elderly man to leaves trails of frost ferns (the spiral frost patterns on windows) in his wake. This Jack bridges the two. Where in his youth, he might have been care free and mischievous boy, he has met tragedy and is becoming a more solemn man. In addition to being something of an ice elemental, I read several descriptions about him being a particular friend to the goblins and trolls (possibly because of his boyhood antics). Thus we find small elements of Jack Frost in both Jarreth and Elsa.

Have a wonderful day!


	2. Chapter 2

They accepted the child without question. She wouldn't be harmed. Jack still felt nauseous from all the emotion and cuteness. And all in one room. They had woken up too quickly, and Jack had been forced to hide. Usually he didn't have to worry about being seen, but he had chosen witching hour to go deliver babies: the one time a mortal could see through a glamour if looking properly. And they had been looking.

But no matter, he had chosen well. She would be taken care of and out of the way. He had done his job. He worked his way back to his lair. The trolls and goblins (idiots) couldn't manage themselves long without his supervision. And they had been left with precious cargo. Sure enough, when he approached the entrance of the cave he had taken up residence in, he was greeted by Milksop fretting.

"What is it?" The sharp faced troll was bowing so deep his nose touched the ground. Apparently he couldn't leave even for a moment.

"Nothing my Lord. Nothing much my Lord."

"What is it."

"It's the boy. He hasn't stopped yet."

"Is that all?" Jack arched an eyebrow.

"No, My Lord. I mean, yes. It's just that, no one can get near him."

"If that's all, Milksop, I'll handle it."

"Of course, my lord."

Jack entered the cave and realized why Milksop had been outside. It was deafening inside. The echo of the cave was awful. And the child was really screaming, had been since Jack had walked away with his sister. Annoyed Jack strode toward the infant.

"Are you quite finished?" The baby did nothing to stop wailing. "I won't bring her back, but you I haven't decided about yet. I can either keep you here with me or send you to live with the bog trolls." The baby didn't quiet. Jack beckoned the shivering girl who was whimpering was well.

"Feed him, " he commanded without so much as a glance. The room quieted as the child fed. "Now, then. You are fed; your sister is safe. If you restrict your screaming to business hours, then we will get on well enough."

By the time the child had finished feeding, Jack had created a mobile of ice orbs. Some had frozen flowers at the center, others had brightly colored leaves or even small insects. The small child watched them transfixed, as did the girl. The problem having been dealt with, Jack summoned goblins to bring blankets for the baby and the girl.

He left, berating himself for keeping the boy. The girl had been easy to part with. She was ugly and looked nothing like her mother or him. He had planned on leaving them both with the couple, but when he looked at the boy, he saw himself and Adelaide. He was a beautiful child, and he made Jack think of better times. And her. And he needed an heir. Did he not owe it to Adelaide to make her child his heir? As long as the child wasn't too troublesome, his heir he would be.

* * *

Wingapo friends!

Here we see Jack, who seems rather cold. Fay, traditionally are very wild, emotionally reserved, and/or unable to feel sympathy. They were however considered capable of love. Traditionally, it is one of the only things that could prompt a happy ending for a human that encounters a faerie. Faeries were very considerate of their own, however. Humans were viewed as an excellent, and sometimes even necessary, way to raise a faerie child. There is also a good deal of lore that suggests faerie women have trouble bearing children (hence why so many human females are abducted). Some traditions even suggest that for a faerie woman to even have a chance at a successful child birth, there must be a human woman present. It is no stretch of the imagination that Jareth's mother could have died giving birth to twins. There is also a good deal of lore about how scorned or tragic love can warp a faerie. This would explain the switch from a jovial, if a bit naughty, Jack to a menacing old man. Here I used some creative freedom to give Jack some shape. The tragic lover, wishes to keep the children, but the past him thinks that a human upbringing is best. He compromises and does a little of each.

Have a great day!


	3. Chapter 3

Fern came bursting back in the house. Her face was overly bright, but not as bright as the smile on her face. It was a smile that caused her mother much anxiety.

"What have you been up to, Trouble?" Her father asked before her mother could.  
"Must I always be up to something?"  
"My thoughts exactly," her mother answered not unkindly. Fern kissed her mother's cheek.  
"Momma, I was good. I was just in the woods."  
"I was just out for a run." As her mother's brow furrowed, she rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Momma. No one could have recognized me."  
"I don't think that makes me feel any better." In fact, Fern's mother looked a great deal more worried.  
"It's okay, Mary," Fern's father soothed her mother. "Fern, you know there are poachers around. Do you think that a deer is a smart alternative. If you were running about as yourself and a poacher sees you, then you are just a peculiar girl. If you look like a doe and a poacher sees you, he is going to think dinner."  
"There are no poachers about," Fern said under her breath.  
"And why is that?" Her mother spoke sharply. For the first time, Fern looked a little guilty.  
"Answer your mother."  
"Well…..you know the royal hunt-" Fern's mother dropped the bowl she had been carrying to the counter. Fern looked suitably abashed. Her mother and father both looked stricken. "I wasn't caught."

Her mother looked genuinely hurt. "You take so little care with your life. I swear you will be the death of me."

"I do try, mamma. I just can't help it." It didn't make it easier that her parents knew this already. Just like it wouldn't stop them from trying to prevent her from going out tomorrow, even though she would inevitably find her way to the woods.

Fern wasn't sure how she managed to escape the next day. She had been with her mother all day. And then she wasn't. Then she was outside, and from there she was wild. Fern was convinced that if she could run fast enough, she would out run her wildness. Often times, she could go months without needing to roam the woods. But when the forest called, it never requested. She paced herself until she got to the edge of the wood. She even tried to stay human, but the call of the forest was strong and before she could think much of it, she was frolicking, in the woods.

She was frolicking as such when she came across the hunting party. She spotted them first and froze, but it was not but a moment before they spotted her. Doe's of pure white were not too common to the wood, nor where they easy to miss. The chase was on, and after the moment of freight had passed, Fern felt exhilarated. Of course they could not catch her, but how wonderful the challenge was. It wasn't until several minutes into the chase that Fern began to worry. A few minutes later she was panicked enough to follow her instincts home.

Samuel was working in the garden when Fern erupted from the forrest. Abandoning the garden he ran just ahead of her to get the door open for her, the followed her into the house, barring the door. The thunder of horses came upon them suddenly, accompanied by a cry of distress.

"Mamma!" Fern cried.  
"Stay!" Her father ordered gruffly his now human daughter. Then he fled to aid his wife.

Outside, his wife was in hysterics over the armed men currently in her front yard. Reaching forward in panic, his wife's eye connected to his for a moment. He hurried forward. She swung into his arms. He made a show of comforting her before turning his attention to the men that had destroyed their garden.

"Might I ask, My Lord, if our garden is so offensive that you must trample it with such force as to petrify my wife?"

Several of the men stiffened, but Samuel thought he saw almost saw a smile on the only face that mattered.

"Would you address His Highness so disrespectfully."

"Not at all. If he had sent word the blasted thing was offensive to him, I would have destroyed it myself and saved my wife the alarm."

"We apologize for the distress of course. We were caught up in the chase."

"It must be quite some girl to run from the King and fleet footed as to out-run the King's Hunt." He quipped wryly.

"Not a girl, a doe." One of the guard's corrected. Samuel merely raised his brow in disbelief.

"She ran right into the house." The King said distractedly. Samuel realized he was looking at the door to his home as if he could see through it.

"I'm sure I would have seen that."

The King dismounted and turned back to Samuel. "I'm sure I would like tea."

"Of course." Samuel and Mary walked toward the house together, inviting the King in. Mary looked ill. Samuel looked like he had been hewn from stone. The king looked curious.

As soon as the door opened, Samuel and Mary knew that the day they dreaded most had come. It had taken a strikingly different form than they had thought. The couple had always dreaded losing their daughter, fearing that someone may find her strange and harm her. Or that her reckless nature would harm her. That some passing faerie would find her and bring her to the faerie hills. They had forgotten, that a much more mortal separation could happen when a young boy meets a young girl, for she had never taken an interest in such things before. But when the young King looked upon their daughter (who was busy boiling the water) they were surprised, but when their daughter looked up at the young king, they felt the loss of their daughter keenly.

* * *

Wingapo friends!

So one, rather popular, train of thought is that faeries can take on different forms, usually animals. That allows them to camouflage, avoid being seen, and also gives them the close bond with nature that is commonly associated with them. Other forms of thought (some of which are in addition to rather than instead of) are that faeries are invisible to human eyes unless they desire to be seen, are tricked into being seen, or if a human gets fairy water, dust, or mirror (depending on version) in their eye(s). Disclaimer: putting mirrors in your eyes usually results in blindness. Dust and water usually don't feel awesome either.

Another fun fact: Fern's story comes from another fairy-tale. The Grimm's version is "Brother and Sister." Other versions (like Madame d'Aulnoy's "The White Doe") feature a girl (usually princess) that turns into a white doe. The deer is hunted by a King who discovers, in its place, a beautiful young woman. Logically, he marries her. I figured if Fern was going to be connected to the Goblin King, Jack Frost, and the Snow Queen she should have her very own fairy tale to throw into the mix. This one works well because we also see Jareth shifting shapes, and it also gives them both the same unusual coloration. It also ties her into royalty which sets up nicely for Elsa.

On a side note: if anyone was curious about the name Fern, it is because the Mary saw Jack Frost's signature frost ferns and named the mysterious new-comers after them in true fairy tale fashion (eg. Snow White, Rapunzel, Bell, Aurora...).


	4. Chapter 4

The cobbled streets of the market were overflowing. Goblins and troll of all shapes where bartering, trading, collecting, stealing, and fighting. A goblin sat next to a wall jingling an old cup despite the fact that no one had given the creature any coin since it had first appeared. Only one paid the creature any attention at all. A puny looking goblin, with sharp eyes sat not too far away watching the figure. The figure walked up to the figure and tossed something into the cup.

"Ah! What have we here." A shriveled hand reached out and allowed the cup to empty into it. A necklace and crystal fell into it. The creature looked up at the small goblin.

"It's time to go home young prince." The creature dropped his hand, but didn't move otherwise.

"How did you find me this time? I swept away the glitter."

"Not all the way here, you didn't."

The small figure let out a groan of frustration. "How am I supposed to sneak anywhere with a blasted glitter trail."

"Royalty doesn't sneak, your majesty."

"That's because royalty is boring."

"Shall I'll tell his majesty that?"

"No!" The creature gasped. "Alright, fine. I'll go back."

"With me I hope."

"Yes, of course Milksop. Catch." The creature tossed a crystal orb at the small goblin.

The goblin blinked furiously and appeared to try and balance himself. The creature was casting off a cloak, revealing a lanky boyish figure with a mischievous grin.

"You've gotten quite good at that young prince." Milksop, admitted. "And your glamour too. It took me quite a while to figure out if it was really you."

"I used the cloak and a glamour. It makes it harder to penetrate the glamour." He said proudly. "What gave me away?"

"There's glitter on your cloak." Milksop reached up and brushed of the Prince's shoulder. Sure enough, gold glitter fell to the floor. The Prince pouted visibly. "Now, your father is waiting for you. I suggest not making him wait any longer." The boy gave no indication of hearing but headed off in the proper direction, glitter following in his wake.

The boy gave a look at the guards at the hall doors. They scrambled to open the doors for him. Milksop shook his head.

Inside the hall Jack Frost was idly walking around the room while a troll recounted some kind of business. He waved the troll off when Jarreth approached.

"Late as usual," Frost commented idly. "I don't suppose you are late because you were practicing frost? No? Then perhaps you were studying the Seelie Court? No? Ah, I know. You were over-seeing the training of the new staff? Because surely you would never stoop to something like childish games. A King, after-all, is above that." Jarreth managed to hold his father's gaze and look bored. He had learned long ago, that making a fuss did nothing. It seemed that nothing irritated the Frost prince quite like being emulated. Other than the boy's lack of frost control.

Frost began to pace, a sure sign of irritation, trailing a dusting of fractals in his wake. Jarreth, too paced, idly, leaving matching swirls of glitter.

"So you wasted my time, being late. Your time, hiding about like a child, and you wasted the kingdom's time, by not leading your people."

"Of course. Though I hardly think the kingdom missed me. I rather think I was chosen because of my games."

"Don't be non-sensical boy. Goblins and trolls need firm leadership."

"That's why you were chosen, right dad?" Jarreth arched an eyebrow. Milksop, took a step back further into the shadows. It should have been the highest form of flattery that the son of the goblin's and trolls beloved adopted leader was to be, king. The father and son rift, however, had instead made it awkward. The boy clearly wished nothing of the crown, and the father wished for nothing else. It had become a weapon between the two. The father would never forgive his son for being royal, when he himself was not. He would never forgive his son for not carrying his legacy. While the boy was clearly powerful, Frost could not see it. He seemed to only be able to seem where the boy lacked.

The boy, however, was much more torn. He would never forgive his father for separating him from his sister. And yet, still, he looked to his father to teach him. In fact, all the boy did was learn and watch. But soon, the boy would surpass his father, and then what trouble would he get into.

By the end of the evening, the hall was covered in glitter and ice. The two had fought long and hard. Sometimes, they were loud. Sometimes, they were austere. But always were they at each other's throats. Frost, it seemed, had made his authority known, and for now, the title father trumped king. "For now," both Milksop and Jarreth thought, "but for how much longer." Milksop brought a missive from Frost to Jarreth. Jarreth put it away without reading it, but Milksop lingered.

"Show me what you've learned today, You Lord." He prompted Jarreth. It was an old ritual of their's.

Jarreth looked reluctant, but with another prompting he acquiesced. Laborously, he produced a crystal. Then he shifted it. The image was hazy at first, but sharpened after a few moments. A lovely young girl, with white blonde hair and warm green eyes appeared, sitting in front of the fire. She appeared to be tending to it.

"My sister." Jack said softly. Milksop understood suddenly that the boy had not just conjured an image, but a reality. He sat back impressed.

"That's quite some trick you've got there. How long have you been working on this one?"

"Ages. Forever, I think."

"Well," Milksop said uncomfortably. "You've certainly outdone yourself." The boy nodded, appearing bored again, but his eye stayed fixed on the orb.

"She's the one father should have kept," he said quietly.

"Why do you think that?" Milksop said before he could stop himself.

"She has ice. She has ice, and she can shift. Father would love her."

Milksop was at a loss for words. It was very probable the boy was right, but that knowledge would do no one good. Instead, Milksop praised the boy for his skill, and bid him good-night.


	5. Chapter 5

The young king came every day for nearly a month. For the first week or so, he came with hardly credible reason, then stopped offering any at all. Fern was lively, bright, and beautiful. Even more so, she was regal and intriguing. The king could not help but to be entranced by her; what mortal man would not? But the wild, kind fern was equally drawn to the serious, quite king. Both Mary and Samuel grieved to know that their child would leave them, but admitted quietly to one another that they were glad to see her happy.

"I don't think I ever considered that she might fall in love." Mary said one evening. "It seems to tame for her." The room lapsed into silence.

"I always hoped her wildness couldn't get her into too much trouble. I never dreamed it would come to favor her." Samuel added.

"The stars certainly shine bright for her."

A few days later, Mary walked in the garden to find Fern enthusiastically embracing the King, who wore a smile. Fern spotted her mother quickly, and instead of releasing the embrace, transferred it to her mother. "Don't move! I must find Papa!" And with that fern traipsed off.

A moment later, a rather frazzled Samuel came hurrying out to the garden, quickly followed by a shutting door. Mary stepped to her husbands side a waited.

"Though we have all come to meet by unusual means, I have become very fond of your family. I would like to request the honor of joining our families. That is, I would like to become like a son to you."

Samuel and Mary were humbled by the honor he bestowed upon them and their daughter. Though they had already guessed his intentions, they had half expect him to hoist Fern onto his hours one evening and ride off with her. What could they do to stop him? Mary, rushed forward and embraced the boy just as vigorously as her daughter had.

The wedding was grande; the bride was beautiful and the kingdom adored her as much as their King did; Mary and Samuel were overcome by the happiness of their daughter and new son. Then came the time for Mary and Samuel to return home. They did so, with Fern's promise to invite them back once they were settled. Thus the routine was established: Mary and Samuel would journey home, realize the house was bare without their daughter, grow accustom to the silence, then journey off to visit their daughter her husband.


	6. Chapter 6

Following the fallout between Jareth and Frost, it was decided that Jareth needed to spend time in the Seelie Court to better learn his responsibilities. Though this was met with much opposition from the young prince, it was more of on principle than any real distaste for the order. Milksop rather suspected the boy enjoyed the being around other with talents similar to his, but the boy was smart enough not to show any enjoyment. Jack Frost had somehow decided that if the boy enjoyed it, it was bad.

Every few months, the Jack Frost would order the boy to pack his things and drag Jareth and Milksop to wherever the Seelie Court had taken up residence. On these trips, Jareth gained something precious: freedom. Everyone in the Seelie court glittered, and Jack Frost often left the young prince entirely to Milksop. Jareth found that hide and seek became much more fun when Milksop could not follow the glitter trail. Even when Jareth was not hiding, there were many things to learn in the Court.

Jareth learned the orbs he had been creating could not only show him what was, but could also show others what he wished them to see. In the Court he worked hard to improve his rudimentary skills with glamours. When he returned to the UnSeelie court, however, he practiced working reality into glamours. If he could see the real and create the imagined, it stood to reason he could see the imagined and create reality. Though Jack Frost adamantly refused to see it, the boy was indeed powerful.

Jack Frost had taken a strong disinterest in his heir. Since he could no longer control the boy, he no longer cared about him. The only time he gave the boy was spent trying to infuriate him. A small revenge, he considered, for stealing his hopes of a miniature of himself or Adelaide. He had since taken to dealing with some of the more powerful figures on the fringes of the court. Though he had to remain friendly with the Seelie Court, some part of him hated them for not protecting Adelaide. He had only been tolerated, at best, by them. But Adelaide…..she had been one of them. She had been royal and carefree and beautiful, and they had let her die in child birth. Jack could not decide if he continued to take Jareth to the Court for Adelaide or to annoy the brat. He wasn't sure he even cared anymore.

Milksop knocked at the Prince's door. They were to head off to the Seelie Court again. This time, Jack Frost wouldn't be attending at all.

"Come in." Jareth sounded rather bored. When Milksop opened the door, he found the Prince standing idly in the middle of the room. He was spinning crystals in one hand, almost absently. When Milksop did not deliver his message immediately Jareth raised held the crystal still between.

"You are to depart for the Seelie Court immediately."

"I?"

"Of course I will be accompanying you."

"Of course," Jareth commented dryly. "And my father….?"

"Will be attending business, else where."

"Ah," was all the comment Millksop received, but there were traces of a smile on the Prince's face. It was too cold and harsh to truly be any such thing, and yet….

"Would you like to see my latest project, Milksop."

"Of course, My Prince." Jareth released the crystal, but instead of falling, it drifted delicately over to Milksop. As it approached, the elderly goblin studied it. Inside the odd there was a room, but not a room Milksop had never seen. He looked closer and suddenly experienced an odd dropping sensation in his stomach.

The goblin made a small sound of distress as he looked about and found himself in the room he had been studying. It was a stone room with vaulted ceilings. The room was circular with a circular pit in the center, and stair leading to a platform along one wall. On the platform, in a simply-made, crescent throne, lounged the Prince.

"Sorry to startle you." He said without looking at the goblin. "I wasn't sure I could do it. Your the first to experience it. Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise." He wore the smirk he usually saved for his father. For a moment, Milksop felt the full power that look held and almost felt sympathy for Jack Frost. Then he looked around. Jareth was waiting quietly for a response.

"This is very impressive. Who taught you?"

"A nymph taught me the principle. I admit I'm not using it quite as she intended."

"To be sure. But then this is much more than a parlor trick." The room suddenly dissolved into the much more familiar image of the Prince's quarters.

"Sorry, it is difficult to concentrate while creating an image."

"Is that all it was?"

"No, actually. It was mostly real."

"Mostly?" Milksop challenged. Jareth merely inclined his head in agreement.

"Should this be a secrete?" Milksop challenged, hoping the Prince was as clever as he appeared.

"Clearly, Milksop. Do you often consider speaking lightly of your King's daily activities?"

"Of course not, My Lord." Milksop bowed lower so Jareth would not see his grin. Never before had the boy, now young man, acknowledged his rank for anything other than to spite his father. Even then, it was only in vague hints.

By the time Milksop straightened, he was back to business. "When you are ready, My Lord, we shall depart."

* * *

Wingapo friends!

For those who may or may not be familiar with the Seelie and UnSeelie Court, there are various depictions. Generally the Seelie Court is seen as a merry group of faeries who are generally people-friendly (though not opposed to mischief) and have something of a moral code. Titania and her faerie entourage in Shakespeare are a fairly good example of a fairy court. The Seelie Court would have been made up of the Kings and Queens that used the light side of the force or ethics. The UnSeelie Court would (in an over simplification) be those that use the dark side. Jack Frost is an odd character because he appears in both camps. The boyish depiction of him would belong to the Seelie Court (though not a Court favorite), and his old man counter part would be a solid UnSeelie Court member. Jareth belongs to an interesting gray area in the film Labyrinth.

Other notes: Jareth's magic, much like Elsa's is vaguely defined and covers an interesting scope. His powers, while certainly within the limits of faerie gifts, are definitely an odd manifestation of them and an even stranger application of them. (For example, like most faeries, he enjoys changing his appearance to mess with humans, but while most would use a glamour, he uses an actual cloak, but later he creates a glamour world for her.)

Additionally, originally I had wanted Jareth to raise his eyebrow like Elsa because it slipped my mind that Jareth's brows could not possibly arch higher (though him trying does conjure an image that should be framed). His eyebrows and Elsa's proclivity for making her's soar were part of the groundwork for this whole theory.


	7. Chapter 7

The following winter, Fern and her husband were fortunate enough to inform their parents that she would be having a baby. Fern's mother and mother and law doted upon her. Her husband fretted over her, and the kingdom celebrated. Though the winter was harsh, Fern stayed as strong and able as ever. When spring came, everyone relaxed. The winter had not touched their queen, and a mild spring would keep her healthy. Their queen indeed stayed very lively and lovely through spring. If she slowed a little, it was only to be expected.

It was not until May that Fern's parent's and husband began to worry. With the onset of summer, Fern seemed to wilt. Her energy evaporated; her appetite vanished. As the months passed, she wasted away. Fern herself was not worried. She found the presence of her family comforting, and while she realized she looked poor and felt tired she considered herself to feel none too bad. She had found that hot milk, which was always waiting for her when she woke, went a long way toward soothing any unrest she felt.

In late June, Mary and Samuel went home to gather up somethings to prepare for the grandchildren. The doctor recommended that Fern been surrounded with familiar things from her childhood to help ease the strain toward the end of the pregnancy. Reluctantly, they agreed. Wasting no time, when they arrived home they spent only a day packing their things before setting back off toward their daughter. They reached the gates a just a little over two weeks from when they had left. When they arrive at the castle gates, their son-in-law was there waiting. Mary gripped Samuel's hand a little tighter as they walked with their son-in-law.

"They say that she will go into labor soon."

"But she is not due for another month!"

"I am assured it is quite normal for twins."

"How soon?"

"Any day now."

Indeed, when they reached the castle, there was an odd mix or rushing about and waiting. The very air was tense, and yet when they checked in on their girl (who had been confined to bed) she appeared better than she had in months. She sat in her bed regally ignoring the small crowd of people fussing over her. Her voice even sounded stronger as she inquired after their journey.

Two days later, she went into labor. The family sat anxiously together, waiting for news on their loved ones. A boy, they were told, was delivered first. News of a little girl came soon after. Two midwives came in holding the two children moments after the messenger left. They passed the children to the family and gave them the news. Fern had not made it through the delivery. The two young ladies stood uncomfortably as Mary clutched the little boy her her chest and barrier her own face in Samuel's chest. He too looked as if he had received a fatal wound. Though he did not weep openly like his wife, there were tears on his face as he held his wife. The King, who was left holding his daughter had no visible reaction, but looked to be a million miles away. he nodded his dismissal of the two women and strode out of the room, baby girl still in hand, toward the room where his wife had been sequestered.

He ignored all those who protested with blind eyes and found what he sought. There on the bed lay fern. Her white hair was as wild as ever, but her face usually vibrant was fixed in a look of vacant distress. He stood there, holding her hand until Samuel found him.

"Let them prepare her," He said, his voice thick. "You must let them prepare her. And your daughter will be hungry." Guiding the King with a firm grip as if he were a child, Samuel drew him away from their departed Fern.

* * *

Wingapo friends!

This bit is sad, sorry. Fairy tales are typically tragic. In most versions of "The White Doe," the girl dies shortly after giving birth. The version I am most familiar with, she is murdered by her mother-in-law shortly after her twins are born. She then stays around as a spirit to watch over her husband and children. When she spies him sleeping in the room with while the babies sleep, she is at peace and goes on to the next world. I decided to tone down the murder. After all, faeries are hard to kill, but child birth will typically do the job. Additionally, if she dies without her parents admitting her strange heritage, then this explains why Elsa's family is seemingly clueless as to why she has powers.

Sidenote: twins are a big feature in fairy tales. Usually a boy and a girl. While I do not know the reason for sure, I assume this is to show fertility. Thus proving marrying a strange girl in the woods was not a stupid decision, but a fated blessing.


	8. Chapter 8

Jarreth became much quitter after the death of his sister. Few noticed. Fewer still knew why. Milksop knew only because he became responsible for checking on His Majesty's niece and nephew. The children, it seemed, were hearty and human. The boy had a think mop of red hair, and the little girl with chestnut hair. Though bother were rather mischievous, neither were bore their mother's gift. After an age, Jarreth assigned some of his trolls with comparatively stronger intellect to watch over his sister's children while Milksop remained with him.

It was about this time that Jack Frost began to fade. He had spent his time growing increasingly bitter and corrupt. By the end, one could not tell if he had been poisoned or simply not awakened from his sleep, and no one much cared to investigate either. The only friends he had were the worst kinds of fiends, which are no kind friend at all. Now fully free of his father's tyranny, The Goblin King stepped into his role.

As it turned out, Being King of the Goblins was at once incredibly binding and terribly freeing. Goblins required almost nothing. The aspired to little, organized less, and thought only a few moments at a time in general. For Jarreth this was something of a dream turned nightmare. He was infinitely clever and now found himself bored with little to apply himself. The role which he had dreaded for its infinite responsibility now seemed ideal. Eventually the frustrated Goblin King turned to organizing his kingdom.

Using his physical manifest ion of his magic, he found the goblins and trolls worth noting. Milksop and Jarreth together put together a list of these creatures and what made them worth noting. The next goal was putting them to use. He had rock trolls watching his sister's family; he sent several out for intel in the human and fey realms; some to gather food (goblins could sometimes be too stupid to fend for themselves) and guard orchards; others where assigned to the collection of lost persons.

His next task was moving all those that he deemed incompetent to the area surrounding his castle. The most incompetent were moved in the castle. Jarreth found this miserable for himself, but much more effective for his kingdom. It had the additional bonus of the goblins surrounding him being absolutely loyal to him. This gave him quite a power boost. Bored, and now irritated by the constant surroundings of stupidity, he set his mind to larger things. The city itself needed to be redesigned to keep stupid goblins from wandering out of the city. By this time, Milksop was far past elderly for a goblin. He suspected he owed his good health to a stubborn trouble-maker that he had helped raise. Magical longevity or not, nature will took her due with Milksop as well, leaving Jarreth alone in his kingdom.

Grief fueled Jarreth to distraction. His powers, now prolific thanks to years of isolation, ascension to his rightful position, and hoards of devoted subjects, took on a darkness while surpassing his previous best. He created an unbreathable fortress. A labyrinth. Not only was it menacing to navigate, but it was conscious enough to evolve and adapt to those who threatened it. It would keep invaders out and goblins in. It would protect and redirect thoughtless goblins while directing invaders away from its contents. It was fatal enough to take out armies and clever enough to outwit faeries. His final touch, remembering Milksop with reluctant fondness, was to cover the entire realm in gold glitter. Now he could traverse the entire realm in anonymity.

He considered anonymity to be his greatest achievement, and made use of it often. In many ways, he relived his boyhood: traversing the once city, now realm in disguise. He entertained himself by maneuvering his way through the Labyrinth and watching the goblins do so as well. He learned the Labyrinth had something of a sense of humor. While it safe guarded the goblins, it did so in a frustrating manner. It would block them in, lead them in circles, or simply open up and spit them out elsewhere. He too enjoyed such pranks, but eventually even that grew stale.

Eventually he found himself navigating the Labyrinth with such ease that it no longer required effort and the joy of anonymity too faded. He found himself bond to a throne with no real work and no real escape. He was the babysitter of goblins. The most strenuous of his jobs now was making sure those that joined his realm were properly acclimated. He had, perhaps, done his job too well.

One monotonous lifetime, he the trolls communicated with him. He had gifted them with crystals to call him should anything of note happen to his sister's family. Jarreth, all too eager to break the monotony, went directly to the trolls instead of bringing them to him.

Upon arrival, he found himself staring at a field of stones in the snow.

"You called?" He said archly. The stones unrolled themselves into small trolls. Nervously, one (wearing the most crystals) waddled forward and preformed an awkward bow.

"Your Majesty, one of the mortals is gifted."

"And her gift?"

"She has the spirit of winter." The troll spoke in an odd cadence Jarreth cold only assume had been picked up. Trolls liked to fancy themselves wise-souls like healers and sages.

"Interesting," and with that, he vanished.

An owl sat outside of the great castle for a few moments then swooped into a room as the window blew open. The owl perched quietly in a corner taking in all that was around. It was snowing in the room delicately. The bassinet in the center of the room held a small child. Edging closer, the owl saw his sister playing with snowflakes as they fell from the ceiling. It wasn't until the child's eyes fixed on him that the image disappeared. Her eyes were softer, less wild than his sister's. Mortal. Yet the young girl clearly carried his sister's legacy. For a moment he toyed with the idea of bringing her back with him. After all, the Goblin City belonged to her as well, and should she not be with her family? He could teach her so much, and the goblins would adore her. He could finally live be with his sister.

As quickly as the idea came, it shattered. The queen swept in pulling her husband behind. She was excitedly explaining to her husband how she had witnessed the miracle of their daughter's gift. Her husband was stunned, but he too smiled at their daughter. Fern's parents had loved her. She had been happy. How could he make her happy when he himself was not? Of course she should stay with the parents that loved her. The decision made, he discreetly exited.

Returning to the trolls, he gave brief instructions for them to let him know immediately if anything changed. Once back in the Labyrinth he gave orders that children would not be taken, unless their family declared the children unwanted. This caused so much confusion, that eventually Jarreth laid out the magic words that meant a child could be brought back to the Labyrinth. This, unfortunately, reduced his responsibilities further as the influx of children dwindled. Even so, the order remained.

* * *

Wingapo friends!

So this chapter is less lore related, and more theory related. I started reading the text Labyrinth as well as a few texts on goblins to help construct a theory of how the Labyrinth came to existence as well as some lore about fairy royalty.

Fay Royalty: So Jarreth has some royal connections, but otherwise, Faerie royalty don't seem to have a clear lineage. They just are.

The Labyrinth: Goblins and faeries are often thought to live underground. For some, this corresponded to Hell, but mostly it was a connection to the Earth. Fay were considered to extensively be connected to the Earth or some other element. Goblins and trolls are both primarily earth elements, and thus live in it. There are some hybrids, but that's getting a little advanced. They are also thought to be mischievous but generally harmless. Occasionally their pranks are deadly, but generally there is a positive correlation between intelligence and menace. In the movie, the Labyrinth was designed to be its own being. It evolves to it's opponent. We can see elements of this through-out the movie (dead-ends springing up, walls changing, etc). I did my best to piece the book Jarreth's attitude toward's life/goblins and work it into the creation of the Labyrinth (though less extreme, as I felt this would come in time).


	9. Chapter 9

Jarreth was frustrated to find out that the trolls had taken to his idea of being love experts. Worse still, was being subjected to years worth of them convincing themselves. Jarreth had wondered why people attended frightfully silly and stupid plays and comedies. As his boredom grew however, he began to understand the appeal. He would watch the trolls play act these silly, love-experts while raising a human boy who thought he was a reindeer and a reindeer boy that thought he was a human. A guilty pleasure if there ever was one.

Even more entertaining was when the ice princess became ice queen. Of course he didn't see that, but he did see the trolls, happily wandering in summer fields suddenly completely hidden by snow. It didn't take him too long to piece things together. Magic outbursts are very common when one first starts using one's skill. Control comes with practice. Some part of Jarreth was proud to see his sisters child, easily surpassing his father's gift. His father, he begrudgingly admitted, would be proud too.

And an Ice Castle! In a day! Jarreth wondered how many books on architecture she had read while in isolation. Sure, he had built the castle in the Goblin city in the same time frame, but carefully developing his skills. But the surprises did not stop there. The most impressive one was that the Trolls did something right. The other princess came to see the love experts. Jarreth could not believe his eyes.

And then, suddenly, he could. The Old Troll actually told the girl an act of true love was the only way to melt the freeze. The trolls had clearly been pretending for too long. With a sigh exasperation, he vanished, appearing in the camp itself. After making inquiries about the injury, Jarreth took off again, following the deep freeze to the heart of the problem. It was rare that Jarreth went fully invisible. He preferred a range of other disguise and subterfuge techniques. For this, he made an exception. The younger girl was sporting a curse that posed a very real threat. Currently, she was running to intercept a sword aimed at the elder sister.

Jarreth worked fast. He stuttered the sword just before it could shatter the now frozen hellion. He put a ward around her which burst out from her, knocking the assailant down. Then an orb of heat was propelled into her chest. After a few tense moments, the girl began to thaw.

Jarreth wanted to throw someone when, after embracing, the girl attributed her sister's thawing on an act of true love. Not that he wanted the recognition, but he felt like he needed to scrub himself after being cited as some cupid like character, reversing spells in the name of love. But, this did seem to give the girl some modicum of confidence in her ability to control her powers. Jarreth helped her melt the frost, and make sure people that were on the now frosted ocean ended up somewhere solid before melting everything. Once everything was under control, Jarrreth took a few moments to watch the sister's interact. With all the magic in the air, he was given a rare moment of camouflage from the girls.

He could see his Fern easily in both of the girls. The elder was regal and poised like Fern, but the younger one, her attitude was entirely Fern. The elder one had a reserve Fern never had, but he could see the same sense of mischief peaking out from behind her reserve on occasion.

Satisfied that he had done his job, he removed himself before the eldest took notice of him. He stopped by the trolls giving them strict instructions to relay any new developments and berated them for the silly idea of being love experts. Having done that, he sat in his throne room and laughed. It was the greatest entertainment he had in a few lifetimes. The goblins stayed far from their king that day. The cavernous halls echoed with his laughter and projected it out into the city. Even for goblins it was unnerving. Their king was quite mad.

* * *

Wingapo friends,

This story has actualized its purpose: established a familial connection between Elsa and Jarreth. As it has done so, it has reached it's conclusion. There might, however, be a sequel in the mix. I've developed a few interesting Theories about Labyrinth. I have one that might be pre Sarah, and another that might be post Sarah. Be on the look out. I may try to come up with a proposal for each, and let reader interest decide which one I write. Then again, I might also venture out into re-writing romances as horror stories.


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